


Survive for Me

by Baby_Fangirl



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 02:30:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14095134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baby_Fangirl/pseuds/Baby_Fangirl
Summary: It is the 67th Annual Hunger Games, 24 tributes will enter the Arena.Drizella is determined to fight for Anastasia's memory.Alice is determined to go home to her father.22 others just want to live.Rainyrook Fanfiction, featuring Drizella x Alice





	1. The Reaping

** _Prologue_ **

_The 67 th Hunger Games_

_The peaceful nation of Panem was once so large that it had to be divided into thirteen districts. District 1: Luxury. District 2: Masonry. District 3: Technology. District 4: Fishing. District 5. Power. District 6: Transportation. District 7: Lumber. District 8: Textiles. District 9: Grain. District 10: Livestock. District 11: Agriculture. District 12: Mining. And District 13: Graphite Nuclear._

_Sixty-seven years ago, the various districts of Panem rebelled against the Capitol, rising up against the oppression in which the government ruled over those thirteen districts. There was blood, loss and war. For every capitol citizen slain, two rebels died, and at the end of the long and hard-fought conflict, the Capitol quelled the rebellion, defeating twelve of the districts, obliterating the thirteenth to nothing but ash._

_In the wake of the rebellion, the Capitol established the Hunger Games, an annual televised show as demonstration of the power and control that the Capitol held. In these games, they would snatch a male and female tribute from each district and leave them in an alternate arena so that twenty-four children would fight to the death…_

_Until one remained, to be crowned the victor._

_Now, on the dawning of the 67 th Annual Hunger Games, the time has come again to celebrate the everlasting peace that has been fought and kept in harmony between the District and the Capitol as two children will be reaped from each pool of civilians. _

_Two children._

_Twenty-four potential killers._

_One victor._

_May the Odds be ever in your favour._

* * *

 

 

District One had always been her home; and Drizella used to love it. She used to love it like she used to love lemon cakes and tea; like she used to love hot chocolate and sneaky cookies; but everything that Drizella loved never lasted for long.

Of course, she didn’t complain about her lifestyle. Everything was fancy and rich, and her family even had the biggest and grandest house right next to the Justice building. She had everything from crystal chandeliers to a glass parlour; polished silverware and marble floors across to the patio. Drizella wore only the finest cloths and had the finest accessories to accompany her frivolous and tailored outfits. And for the first few years of her teenage life, the concept of the Hunger Games was terrifying.

They used to watch the events on their huge plasma screen as a family. Rapunzel Tremaine sat at one side of the couch, with Ana pressed into her, Drizzy sat holding her sisters hand, and Ella beside her, often holding Drizella’s other hand as Marcus sat in the chair beside them. But that was a long time ago, when they were all children. Innocent to the works of fate.

 

Drizella effortlessly pulled a brush through her long, midnight tresses, like a river of ink, glancing upon her reflection with determination. Today was the reaping, and every eligible boy and girl would make their way to the Justice building. She had already showered and laid out a flattering red dress that would match her make-up precisely. The Tremaine daughter would make sure to leave an impression on the one day that mattered most.

She heard a soft knock at her door frame and glanced up to see her step-sister lingering in the doorway with a cream blouse and blue pinafore, plus a worried and concerned glance pulling t her brow.

“You almost look like you’re enjoying yourself,” Ella whispered, entering the other girls bedroom and admiring the dress she had laid out on the bed, “Are you… _excited_ about today?” Hazel eyes met dark chocolate in the mirror and Ivy rolled them slightly, turning slightly to glance at the older girl.

“Of _course_ I’m excited, I’m seventeen, after this, I’ve got one more year left; you shouldn’t be worrying, this is your last reaping, make the most out of it, it’s the last time you’ll have cameras on you that broadcast through the whole of Panem,” Drizella returned to applying her lipstick, and moved to the bed to pull on her tight fitting dress. She felt slightly bad for lying to her sister, but she’d practised on lying for years. She was basically an expert.

Ella hesitated, “But what if it’s me? Six years ago-”. Drizella instantly shushed her step-sister, holding up one finger to silence her.

“It’s not going to be you, I promise. Just because it happened to Ana, doesn’t mean it’s going to happen to you,”. She reassured, resting a hand on the older girls shoulder.

Ella and Anastasia had both went to the reaping together for the first time at twelve years old, Drizella, being only eleven had stayed at home. Her mother came home crying, as did Ella, and all she heard for hours was their mother yelling at their father how it should have been Ella in those games instead.

As she grew older, Drizella began to question why there were no volunteers, learning about the Careers, tributes who would train for years to get the honour of fighting and potentially winning the Hunger games. Ana had been twelve, a little girl, and nobody had stepped up to take her place.

It wasn’t long after that their father had died, and Drizella was left with a remorseful mother, whose love she would never win; and a step-sister who didn’t know how to approach Drizella other than timidly or nervously.

But from then on, Drizella couldn’t find comfort in her own district, that sent a twelve-year-old girl to be slaughtered. Ana hadn’t lasted forty-eight hours.

 

Drizella was lost in her predatory thoughts, those thoughts that made her wonder how many people had to die to make up for Ana. And looking directly at Ella, the darker-haired beauty had her answer.

Twenty-three.

 

Ella and her step-sister made their way to the Justice building as soon as the alarms began blaring, that terrifying deathly noise. The girl was shaking, but Drizella seemed fine, for the past eight years she had trained for this moment, and she couldn’t wait any longer.

Their mentor, Regina, welcomed the crowed split down the middle according to gender, boys to the right and girls to the left. Fire coursed through the girls body with impatience and eagerness for her speech to be over. Revenge just couldn’t come soon enough.

As soon as the name was read, Drizella let go of her step-sisters hand, pushed through the crowd into the clearing and volunteered.

 

Drizella wasn’t afraid, not until she stood on that stage and saw her step-sister, her mother wouldn’t care if she lost another daughter, but Ella would weep for weeks. She stood proud and fearless, determined as she watched the woman strut across the platform to pick a card out for the boys.

She didn’t spend her time drooling around boys like other girls her age, and the brunette was positive that she could take them down in that arena, no matter who it was.

Even when Regina called the name Henry Mills. Her own son.

* * *

 

 

But somewhere else in an entirely different district, a daughter was saying goodbye to her dear father.

“Alice, Luv, it’s going to be okay,” Killian assured as he wrapped his one good arm tight around the blonde figure. “Aye, you got two good hands and talent, nobody else is going to stand a chance,” he could feel the tears in his chest.

“I know Papa, but I don’t want to leave you. You’re all I got… and I’m all you have… who’s gonna bring you your haul?” Killian relied on his daughter a lot to retrieve their payments along with barley, wheat and rice. Hauling the bags of food had made Alice strong, ever since her father had lost his hand in an accident, she’d done most of the work.

“Don’ worry about me lass, all you gotta do, is win, you can do that for your old man, right?” his ever-existing comforting grin brightened up his lips as Alice nodded. Finally, he moved from her tight embrace, scouring the room until his eyes landed on the old chess board spread out on the table. Tugging the blonde across to the table, Killian picked up the white knight, Alice’s favourite piece.

“Take it, luv, I’ll always be with you. And don’t you ever forget,” he held up the chess piece before laying it in his daughter’s hands. “Whites move first,”

“Papa, papa I’ll miss you!” Alice protested, clinging to the knight as hard as she could before flinging her arms around his neck, standing on her toes.

Killian tried to keep his expression strong and determined for his daughter who got no say in her reaping, he would be strong for her, so she could be strong out there, in that arena. “I love you Alice, Win for me,”

The blonde nodded quickly until her neck began to ache.

“I will Papa, I will,”.

 

Everything had happened oh so quickly, one second Alice had been standing among a sea of people her age, and next, she was being shepherded to the stage to be burdened by pitiful but cowardly eyes, trying to seek out those of her father, but all she could find was the boy’s approaching her. Will Scarlet, the boy who lived on the same street as her.

It was hard to imagine crossing him in the Arena. As children they both used to play together, well, take turns in stealing small things from stalls or markets and compare their loot at the end of the day. It had been their favourite game at one point…

But then they grew up, Alice was home-schooled by her father and Will went to some prestigious school that he hated. She knew he hated it because for the first few days, he would sneak out of school and end up in her back garden and rant about the classes and the students and the teachers.

Then one day, he stopped sneaking, Alice stopped having hope, and they never really saw each other again.

Until now.

 

District Nine had always been loving community, but every time Alice closed her eyes, all she could see was the flood of people, trying not to look up at the tributes; trying not to meet their gaze as they sent them off to die.

And suddenly, Alice had no idea what home was any more.

Alice tried her hardest not to cry as she was lead onto the train by her mentor, and older woman named Colette. The honey haired girl sat down on a leather chair, comfier than anything back home, and held tightly to the knight in her persistent grip.

In fact, _that_ was home. She held home in her hand.

 

And she would go home, for Papa.


	2. The Train

The high speed train sped through the districts, finally getting from twelve to one before taking the long trip to the Capitol. By the time Drizella and Henry had been seated in the first cart of the train, a cloud of darkness had shrouded the nation and an eerie night fell fast upon what must have been a tragic day for most.

Families would wake up in the morning, lost, and alone, worried and scared.

Through the windows, Drizella could make out the blurred outline of trees against the night’s sky, catching more of her reflection against the glass than the dark scenery behind it. Her makeup was still intact, still fierce. She was going to watch the playback of the reapings from the other districts. She could already tell that there would be children barely holding it together.

The two tributes had been left together in the car until their mentor returned to give them some guidance.

Drizella felt somewhat sorry for the boy. And his mother.

They had watched those hunger games in school. The 55th Games. The arena had been mostly flooded, and a lot of the tributes had needed oxygen masks for underwater breathing. Regina had lead the career pack; and when there were just two other players left besides them; she had tied each one to the rocks as they slept and let the flood do the rest of the dirty work.

Since then, the woman had never been the same, more isolated and careful, and at the interview afterwards, all she said was that she had to go home, to be with the one she loved.

 

“You know, you’re going to have to talk to me at one point,” the eighteen-year old boy cut through the silence. Drizella had ruthlessly ignored all his last attempts to ignite a conversation.

The brunette grimaced, trying to see more than the odd dark shapes flying past the window, but now she noticed Henry’s reflection too, sitting the other side of the train, barely holding it together. Maybe she couldn’t kill him herself, but someone else would do it…

She grimaced. “Am I?” her snappy tone was her usual and it was good to still feel herself. She turned finally, to face the older kid.

“We’re tributes from the same district, so yes,” He pointed out, as if she didn’t know.

Drizella rolled her eyes, “We’re tributes from the same district until we get in that arena, don’t expect me to be courteous to you just because we’re from the same place,”

“So, you’d kill me?” Henry bristled ever so slightly. He’s have probably hoped for an Ally, not a threat.

“If I get the chance,” Tremaine shot him down again, trying not to make a big conversation out of this. All she wanted, was for Regina to show up, talk a bit, and dismiss them, so that Drizella could watch the reaping festivals and figure her competition.

Henry squirmed slightly at the silence that fell between them, and he opened his mouth again. “I’m Henry Mills,”

Drizella groaned, letting her head loll back against the window with a sigh, “Are you going to talk the whole way there?”

The boy finally sighed in irritation, “We’re going to die! Do you realize that? Maybe, just maybe I want to get as much talking done as I possibly can before y throat gets carved out,”

“Correction!” Drizella held up her hand to quieten him again, severely wishing Henry Mills came with a mute button “You’re going to die, not we. And who’s to say that your throat is going to be carved out? It may be your spleen, your heart? You could die of starvation, exposure, one wrong move…” She had memorized every death there ever was in the games. “You’re quite boring Henry Mills, thinking wise. Maybe you shouldn’t blabber after all,”

He leant back into his chair, a look of disbelief flashing across his gaze. “I can’t believe I felt sorry for you,” Henry shook his head.

He felt… what?

“What?” Drizella echoed with her thoughts.

“I felt sorry for you. Because when everyone came to say goodbye, my family, my friends, everyone… when they came and left, I saw you. Across the hall. Alone. I know that nobody came to see you, Drizella Tremaine. And at least now I know why,”

Drizella swallowed thickly.  Why should he care?

The doors to the car slid open after a few silent minutes of the tributes avoiding eye contact entirely. Regina glanced between the two, wondering what could have been said that caused the unsettling atmosphere in the car.

“Tributes, the Capitol welcomes you,” Drizella wondered how hard it was for the woman to refer to her son as ‘tribute’.  “We will arrive at the station in the morning, before dinner you will meet your stylists and you will close the day with the parade. Training will be for the next week before you will all meet again in the arena they day after your interviews.”

Regina looked tired, the same worn look that Henry had.

“I’ll see you both in the dining car for dinner,” the older woman excused herself, quietly, leaving both tributes in silence once again.

“I’m getting changed before dinner, you’d do well to do the same,” Drizella hinted as she stood up to her full height with the heels, towering over the sitting Mills.

He glanced up with a frown creasing his brow. “Don’t tell me what to do,”

Drizella brushed past him, stopping by the sliding door before tossing a glance over her shoulder, “I’ll remember those words in the Arena,”.

* * *

 

 

Alice’s bedroom was so much fancier than the one she had at home, and it was utterly overwhelming that this was only the train getting her to her destination… with the lavish suites and waterfall showers. She flung herself back onto the bed, almost excited about the fact that it was so bouncy and soft… but she already missed home.

Alice slipped slightly on the silken sheets, shuffling backwards until her back was pressed against the wall.

The honey-haired girl hadn’t been so full since her eleventh birthday, and her father had saved up all of four months to treat her to a home-made banquet. He had made her cake, and bread, hot from the oven, there were fresh greens and fish and so many berries. He had even traded a month of barley for a block of cheese and a slab of butter. Alice had eaten till she was full, and even ate the next day.

Now, she’d filled herself up on fancy puddings and tea, skipping on the soups and bread rolls and delved right into cake. Her mentor had barely spared her a glance of disapproval. He was a funny little man with a very funny name. He walked with a limp from his win of the games, and his tactic with the tributes seemed to be sarcasm and unhelpfulness.

Very unhelpful that spindleshanks, no, rottenpigskin … or whatever his name was, Alice decided as she fumbled around with the remote, pressing a few odd buttons just to see what the would do.

The lighting dimmed, and she managed to turn on the television. It was wide and thin, unlike the box that they had at home. The Reapings began to play and Alice got comfortable, sneaking a cake from her pocket that she had stolen from the table.

“Might as well know what we’re up against, ey Papa?” Alice bared a toothy grin to the knight that stood on her bed-side. She leant over and turned the chess piece, so that it too, faced the screen.

 

District Twelve, there was a fourteen-year-old skinny boy, who looked too sly to belong to such a poor district, his name was Isaac and he didn’t cry. But the fifteen-year-old girl, Megara did, as soon as her name got called.

District Eleven called up two dark skinned people, both seventeen. It was obvious that they were close because as soon as the names where read, Tiana and Naveen were in a tight embrace and walked back up to the stage together, stiffly.

District Ten called up a tall girl, Jack. She looked cunning and cruel, as did her blonde-haired companion, who was casually chewing on a dried blade of straw, eighteen-year-old Felix. Alice didn’t like him, or his nasty smirk.

Then it was her turn, she watched herself glance around in confusion and shuffle forward, and she watched as Will climbed up the steps after her.

From eight, there was a twelve year old girl, Grace. Her name caused a riot, and a shaggy looking man who had to be her father tried to cut through the crowd and snatch her back. But the Capitol and the peacekeepers separated them now. Nobody volunteered… After came a boy of thirteen, Neal. The camera panned to a crying couple, before the scene changed to district seven.

Fourteen year old Wendy and twelve year old Michael. An older boy volunteered for Michaels place, and shortly, Peter was stood next to the very shy girl.

Dorothy… Gregor… the names just kept coming. Charlotte, Gideon, from District Five.

Alice licked the crumbs from her fingers as she watched the curly red-head mentor pull the names for District four. Robin Hood, a seventeen-year old girl volunteered, as did her year older brother, Roland. The girl looked fierce, and the boy looked strong. And Alice thought they were stupid.

They couldn’t both survive.

Thirteen year old girl Violet scanned the crowd, waiting for a volunteer from her district, but nobody did… the realisation on her face was heart-breaking, next came Grif.

Another brother and sister volunteered for two, Hansel and Gretel, they looked a lot alike and Alice made a mental note to not get too close.

Finally, the last reaping came about, and a dark-haired girl volunteered. She didn’t look as scary as some of the other volunteers, but she did look determined, and that’s what both scared and intrigued the curly, haired girl. Drizella didn’t say another word, she barely blinked.

She didn’t speak or congratulate that Henry boy either.

And that was the closing of the playback feed.

All that Alice could think about, was that she was on a train with children and killers and a pretty girl.

 

She remembered that her mentor had told her not to leave her room until breakfast the next morning, so naturally, Alice skipped across the corridor, looking at the numbers above the doors for each district.

She found herself on the balcony on the very end of the train in no time, the cold air kissed her pale skin, and the icy metal rail bit her hands; Alice was used to cold nights.

“Enjoying the view?” came a sarcastic yet syrup drenched tone as Alice spun around, hardly noticing the figure that was say on a corner chair, watching here.

“An’ here I was thinkin’ I’d have to witness something so beautiful by myself. Hey there number one,” she mused, remembering the pretty girl from the first district… She’d gotten changed from her red dress into some black fitting leggings and a shirt and had braided her hair.

Drizella rolled her eyes and let her gaze wander from the blonde to the star-lit sky. “Take it all in… it’ll be gone in a week,” She stated resentfully.

Alice leant against the barrier, letting the wind whip through her golden curls. “I’m Alice,” she chirped, lunging forward to shake the brunettes hand. The other, obviously taken aback glanced up in surprise, “D-Drizella, and nice to meet you… I think,” her brow creased lightly, “My mentor told me to be nice to other tributes, which is stupid considering we’ll all me killing each other in a couple of days,”

The younger girl beamed awfully large, fiddling with her worn flannel shirt. Unlike Drizella, she wasn’t all too eager to shed the sense and smell of home that lingered with her clothes. “I think my mentor might have given up on me… I mighta accidentally made it obvious that I don’t wanna be here,” Alice tilted her head, “But with you I might make an exception,”

Drizella rolled her eyes again and wrapped her arms around herself as she leant forward slightly, “You don’t get a choice whether you want to be here or not,”

“Hey, you volunteered, so why are you sounding all resentful? Are you getting’ second thoughts? Are you home sick, is that it? Cause you haven’t even ‘bin on this train for four hours” Alice questioned like a pistol firing bullets again and again and again.

Drizella’s dark gaze held tight onto cerulean blue, she stood up, her face inches away from the other girls, she looked as if she were about to snap and say something cruel, but her features softened ever so slightly.

“Good talk,” The brunette nodded curtly, grabbing her jacket before leaving through the sliding door, and Alice was alone again.

 

“See ya ‘round, number One,” Alice mused affectionately, too quiet for even the wind to hear. She tilted her head on the side as she watched the brunettes retreating figure.

 

 


End file.
